Svoboda

I'm coming to you - this strange place
Mist over the swamp without color or bottom
I am your eternal lover, golden bride
Thoughts are licking the window glass like flies
Winter on my back, I'm not old, I'm not young
Night feels like the elevator that the poet died in
I am filled up to my ears, but hunger awoke me
Hands feel for pulse, I am yawning at the light

Mama, wake me up in the black evening
Mama, so that I don't miss the night
Mama, I will leave as decided
Mama, mama, mama…
I am so tired

Storm over the eyes; opposite me - wrinkles
Scribble on the glass with a grey hand
Passing fallen ideas, they swim like causes
In the mist, barely visible, the branch-like centuries
Behind the window grows the final station
Here they sing away the top floor
Hello love, receive this information
But don't fail to hit, wipe off your make-up

Mama, wake me up in the black evening
Mama, so that I don't miss the night
Mama, I will leave as decided
Mama, mama, mama…
I am so tired

Freedom
Freedom
Freedom
Freedom